Liberty of Death: The Sons of Wesker
by Daitsuke-kun
Summary: My first serious fanfiction ever. The summary is inside. Inspired by Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear Solid series and Capcom's Resident Evil series. Not a crossover, although.
1. Prologue

* * *

Name: Liberty of Death: Sons of Wesker

Genre: Action/Adventure

Plot: "Project Wesker" was a tremendous success in science, although nobody new but Umbrella. Ultimate speed, unimaginable strength, practically no emotions and fabulous battle skills - that's what Albert Wesker has, and much more talents that are still unknown. Umbrella, decides to clone him, against his will - and his three sons of Wesker are born. The company is in the hands of Spencer, and Spencer wants power, and he believs that this power can be delivered to him by the hands of Weskers children, but Wesker has other plans. He sends them away - leaving only one of them with himself. Years after, a first viral outbreak occurs in Russia in one of the secret Umbrella laboratories in Krasnoyarsk, long before the Raccoon City incident. And that's when it all goes horribly wrong...

Inspired by Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear Solid and Capcoms Resident Evil

Characters:

Albert Wesker  
Blake Wesker (OC)  
Carter Wesker (OC)  
David Wesker (OC)  
H.U.N.K.  
Frederic Downing  
Vincent Goldman  
Ricardo Irving  
Luis Sera  
Ozwell E. Spencer  
William Birkin

And many more...

* * *

Prologue

**_The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you re still a rat.  
-Lily Tomlin_**

[13:56 PM, Alaska, July 26, 1978]

The room was almost completely dark, and only the dim blue light from the monitors made it glow in somewhat a neon manner, In the middle of the room sat a figure - you could only guess that it was a man,  
by his slicked back blond hair and steady features. His square jaw was clenched tight; the sunglasses he wore on his face hid his eyes perfectly. His fingers were interwined as he thoughtfully observed the monitores in that same emotionless manner. On the monitors there were different people, put in some sort of caged rooms; the man watched each of them, noticing everything - their behavior, their doings. If you looked closely,  
you could see that the man was no older than 20 years old, though he looked older because of his black clothes and stoned expression.

The door opened, revealing a man in his late thirties, with blond hair, piercing blue eyes and a white suit. He could make an impression of a simply lone man, harmless and rather ordinary if not his eyes - they told that this man would trade his mother for money or just his own purposes.

- Wesker, Spencer wants to talk to you. - said the man in a deep baritone. Wesker didn't even flinch or turn his head to acknowledge the presence of a new person in his room. - He wants to talk to you now. - said the man, accenting on the last word. Wesker just pushed some buttons on something, resting near his chair and a picture of an old man appeared on one of the displays. The blond haired man in a white suit simply vanished, clearly understanding that his further presence wasn't necessary.

- It's nice to see you again, Albert. - greeted the man on a display. It was Spenser himself - a tall man with brown dim eyes and his mouth a thin line as always. He seemed he was 60 or something like that, but in fact he was only 52. His lab work made him look older than he was in reality.

- Spencer. - said Wesker emotionlessly. - I don't think you've missed me that much in these two days you were away. - he gave a light chuckle. Spencer smiled, but his eyes stayed cold and untouched by the smile.

- Anyways, strict to business. I assume that you now that when you have something good and you have it a lot it is necessary to share?

Wesker knew exactly what the older man was talking about. In his mind he groaned inwardly, but his features remained steady.

- Explain.

- Well, you see, my dear Albert, yourself was a project of Umbrella, as you already learned. A successful project. Now you have power, you have money, you have everything, although not Umbrella... Yet.

- I don't need your company, Spencer.

- Whatever you say, whatever you say. - chuckled the older man. - Anyways, we have another project planned... "The Sons of Wesker". Sounds pretty good, huh?..

Wesker didn't respond.

- As a matter of a fact, the idea of the project is simple. Umbrella is encouraged by the success when we made you and wants to create... Others. Like you.

- I believe my opinion is not important. - said Wesker, not asking, but demanding.

- Exactly, Albert. It's an order.

- From you if I get it right.

Spencer smiled, but this smile had nothing to do with sincerity or kindness; it reminded more of a way a predator, toying with his pray.

- As I already said, sharing is the most important part of life. Kids in kindergarden learn it when they have too many cookies and their fiends are eager to take them... In a friendly way or just roughly. It's how you choose it - with your kind approval or... - his voice sounded threatening.

Wesker shrugged.

- I have my powers. I can kill all your soldiers without even breaking a sweat.

Spencer laughed.

- Oh, Albert, you're so naive! How could you possibly think that I haven't prepared any surprises for my best project ever? I'm not so rude, son. Actually, there's a microchip installed into your system, right between your flesh and your heart. If you won't do as I say...

Wesker suddenly felt as if a jolt of electricity was sent right through his body. Then another jolt followed, much more painful, that made him fall to the floor, grasping the side of his chest with his hand, trying to stand up helping himself with his other arm. Useless. Waves of pain went through his whole body, making him shake.

- As you see I wasn't lying... This time at least. - smirked Spencer, eyeing his best project ever lying on the floor, gasping for breath. - I must say that it is remarkable, that you still are trying to resist. Most ordinary people would die already of tremendous pain...

Wesker gritted his teeth not wanting any sounds of pain to leave his mouth. He wasn't about to give Spencer such satisfaction.

- So I just have to push the button and... - said Spencer carelessly. - And my favorite project will be disposed of. And we wouldn't want that, right?..

Wesker just gritted his teeth even more tightly and closed his eyes; it was getting really hard for him to breath but he couldn't give up. Couldn't loose. Not to Spencer. Not to anyone.

- Stubborn as ever. - sighted Spencer. - Well, I think we'll just have to...

Wesker opened his eyes, his vision blurry and sucked air through his gritted teeth, clutching at his chest. He heard the door open - no, the door being kicked - and then a man in a gas mask with a TMP in his hands stepped in, two more men standing behind him in similiar attire and weapon.

- H.U.N.K., drag him to the East wing of the facility, floor C room 89. Don't worry about hs strength abilities, he's taken good care of... Just in case. - a jolt of pain ran through Wesker's body once again. - But for his own safety...

One of the man from H.U.N.K.'S. group nodded and hit Wesker hard on the back of his head with his TMP. Everything fell into the darkness as he lost consciousness. Spencer briefly nodded.

- Perfect. Now to the East wing. Call me if he regains consciousness all of a sudden. I'll deal with it. - Spencer smirked.

H.U.N.K. shook his head and the three men lifted Weskers almost lifeless body, his sunglasses falling to the floor as they did it quite clumsily. A little mark glimpsed - an Umbrella logo, exactly, and a little writing in white - our business is life itself.

The display went black but not before they saw Spencer taking out his cellphone and dialing some number.

The "Sons of Wesker" project was about to begin.

* * *


	2. Prologue, Part II

* * *

Name: Liberty of Death: Sons of Wesker

Genre: Action/Adventure

Plot: "Project Wesker" was a tremendous success in science, although nobody new but Umbrella. Ultimate speed, unimaginable strength, practically no emotions and fabulous battle skills - that's what Albert Wesker has, and much more talents that are still unknown. Umbrella, decides to clone him, against his will - and his three sons of Wesker are born. The company is in the hands of Spencer, and Spencer wants power, and he believs that this power can be delivered to him by the hands of Weskers children, but Wesker has other plans. He sends them away - leaving only one of them with himself. Years after, a first viral outbreak occurs in Russia in one of the secret Umbrella laboratories in Krasnoyarsk, long before the Raccoon City incident. And thats when it all goes horribly wrong...

Inspired by Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear Solid and Capcoms Resident Evil

Characters:

Albert Wesker Blake Wesker (OC)  
Carter Wesker (OC)  
David Wesker (OC)  
H.U.N.K.  
Frederic Downing Vincent Goldman Ricardo Irving Luis Sera Ozwell E. Spencer William Birkin

And many more...

* * *

Prologue, part II

_**If you live among wolves you have to act like a wolf.  
-Nikita Khrushchev**_

[ 3:20 AM, Alaska, July 27, 1978]

Everything was black. He could hear something - quiet beeping or something like that. Seconds later he discovered that he was breathing. That logically meant that he was indeed alive. He opened his eyes but didn't know if that discovery was good or bad. Yet.

- How nice of you to finally wake up and to witness this total success in science!

Spencer. It was the voice of his superior, and he could see his bony figure on the balcony just above him. Wesker tried to move his arms, but it was no use. He was tightly tied up to some sort of a table that reminded of ones where corpses usually lay. The room was dark, and the only source of light was somewhere from the balcony, where Spencer stood. He knew by the excited tone of the old mans voice that he was up to something. Up to something that Wesker didn't quite appreciate from the start.

- What are you talking about? - Wesker said into the darkness, lifting his head to watch his superior on the balcony wave his hands in leniency. He heard his dry chuckle, and it made Wesker even more furious. What the hell this man was about to do!?..

- Well, my dear Albert, you have to be... Proud that you'll become a father at such a young age already, and your children will be such a prodigy in the whole wide world. Isn't it fabulous, son?..

Son!? That was the first time Spencer adressed to him with such a word. He was probably going insane.

- You're no father of mine! My parents died right after I was born and you know it!

He heard footsteps and soon Spencers dark figure was approaching him. His superior was smiling mischeviously, eyeing him, his hands folded on his chest.

- It is the story that you've been told so far for all these 18 years. - said Spencer, chuckling. - Because of my orders actually.  
Wesker froze instantly.

- What do you mean? - spat Wesker. He truly didn't want to listen to anything that the old man was about to say to him. He knew Spencer; Spencer liked to talk in such a manner so the things got more complicated; he liked to make mysteries out of nothing. An excellent hatcher. Old bastard.

- You've never had parents that were killed by a drug addict. It was a legend that I personally created for your own sanity. But now I think it is time for you to know. - Spencer interwined his fingers, his almost black eyes burying into Wesker.

- Twenty years ago Ozwell E. Spencer was a part of a project. A big project called "The Sons of Umbrella"". We, the original founders of the company, decided to clone ourselves - so we could have heirs for the future to continue our path and test the new virus, that was created by Veronica. We cloned ourselves, actually me, Ashford and the other two - but only three children survived. The other two died, becaise their cells couldn't accept the virus. But twins Alfred and Alexia Ashford, along with you, Wesker, lived. - he paused, cracking his fingers as Wesker watched his every move intently, stil not sure about what Spencer wanted to do with him now.

- However, only two - that is Alexia and you - had a virus inside yourselves. Alfred didn't, because his cells didn't adjust it - somehow he lived, though I stil am clueless why - the other two kids died, as I said, because the virus didn't bond with their actual DNA. - Spencer shrugged, probably from cold. Wesker noticed that it was chilling here only now, he actually didn't pay any attention earlier.

- But you and Alexia are different - her virus was growing inside her slowly and she stil is in the tube as we put her inside it when she was 8 so the virus inside her could develop more easily, when her body concentrates only on this task. You, however, are a totally different story.  
Wesker gritted his teeth. He didn't like what Spencer was talking about. It meant... It meant that from the very beginning he never was a human - he didn't really care about that, but that also meant he is just a pawn, a puppet of Umbrella and personally Spencer that could easily be disposed of if something went wrong. He didn't like being a pawn, he liked to play them.

- We all injected the women that carried out children with the Veronica virus, but I wanted to add something to it. You could say my hands were itching to test the new virus that I, personally I invented without Ashford or Marcus knowing. The child could easily die while stil in the womb, but I was so eager to try it... And so I injected the Spencer virus into your mother while she was pregnant with you. You could easily die, it all depended on how the virus would act, bond with Veronica or not. Wesker clenched his fist. So Spencer really didn't care if he died even not born after all. Not like it offended him or something, but once again, he didn't like being just a project. He didn't like being "something"- he wanted to be "someone". Not some leftover.

- Oh, don't be so pathetic, son. - chuckled Spencer, noticing his gesture. - You don't know the whole story yet.  
Wesker glared at Spencer in a way that made his superior chuckle once again.

- But it turned out that I was right after all. The Ashford and Marcus were totally clueless of what I've done, because at first it seemed that my virus just melted into the Veronica, and no sights of it were present on the different diagramms and tests that we passed on the women. But when you were born... It was something totally different.

- Is that so?.. - Wesker mumbled, gritting his teeth even more, even feeling a litle bit of pain because of the pressure.

- Yes, but then, when I saw you first... I sensed there was just something about you. - Spencers eyes were glistening and he reminded a crazy scientist. - On the inside you seemed normal - the test showed that Veronica melt into your system perfectly, and that you were in good health. You had these amazing blue eyes and blond hair from the start - I remembered how you first looked at me, studying my features, and I felt my heart leap. You were my very own son, you carried my blood, and something precious in that blood as well... Your mother died right after you were born and we disposed of her body immediately. I was monitoring you since you were a newborn, I knew there had to be something... My virus wasn't injected for nothing. I gave you a name - I named you Albert, because the project was also called AAA - Alfred, Alexia, Albert - the three prodigy kids. The two A to be honest, as Alfred wasn't a success after all. Wesker was a surname I gave you because I couldn't let anybody know. The AAA project was a secret, nobody knew except Ashford, me, Marcus and another scientist who died shortly after you were born. I told you your parents were killed when you first asked. I was just your superiour from the very beginning. You lived a lab rat live, and you knew what your fist word was? It was "virus", you said it when I was reading you some book about the plague that stressed the world in 14-15 centuries. Yes, I read you scientific or history books instead of these silly tales about witches and wizards - and you liked it.

Wesker remebered. He never saw a children's book in the lab - only science books, developed for well-educated people in this area, for professionals. Maybe that's why he was the smartest and the youngest scientist in Umbrella from the very beginning. Meant to be at least.

- You read books like a maniac, too many and too fast for a normal kid, asking me questions that I soon was tired of answering or simply didn't know how to ansewer. In your 10 years you were much more smarter that your father - probably in all aspects but psyhology. That's when I decided to put you into socium for at least a year - to see how you were with people. From the very beginning nobody really liked you, as far as I knew - for a ten year old, you were too smart and serious. After two days you've been at school you understood that people were like puppets - useless, cheap, and very easy to manipulate with.  
Thats when you became the master of a mind game, even better than myself.

- Don't flatter yourself. - Wesker said through his gritted teeth but Spencer ignored him.

- And that's when I discovered that you had much more potential than just anyone on the Earth. That virus, inside you... It started to show itself when you were 14. Your eyes started turning red, slowly, but inevitebly, you started to sleep less, eat less, and your strength seemed to increase. You started to wear so people wouldn't get suspicious so you won't have problems, I said that you were just unique, some kind of an albino and were sensitive to the light. You seemed to believe me... And you soon found another use of them - you intimidated people, making them do whatever you wanted to do, made them fear you - just because of this... Threatening image you yourself created - a boy, a man dressed in black, unemotional as a rock, solid in character and always wearing theese sunglasses, that made you even more unreadable... I knew that it all was my special virus, that made you like that - strong and manipulative, just as I wanted you to be, with powers and all - and oh what joy it was to know that I am on the edge of building a new world, where I will be God and where only the Chosen ones have the right to exist!  
Spencers voice raised an octave. Wesker had no other choice but to listen, however, listen to the madman, listen to everything he was told.

- When you grew up, you had developed this... Dark aura. Everybody in Umbrella feared and fear you, an you know it. In fact, you pretty much enjoy it. I am already old, but my mind is as cleared as twenty years ago. And I thought: why not clone you now,  
when you are in perfect shape, with powers that I only dreamt of having!? Yes, I was jealous of you, but at the same time - flattered with you. I stopped thinking of you as a son when you turned five, and I was always just your superior, but thinking of it, it is what made you such a person that you are now.

Wesker flinched. The thought of Spencer being his father... The "family reunion" wasn't quite happy and fortunate. Not at all.

- And then I decided to do it again - to clone my own son, to repeat myself, just as I did twenty years ago, this time with you. I found a woman - injected her your seed and the same sample of a virus that you carry - and now she's pregnant with your child, with your clone.

Suddenly somewhere on the balcony a figure in a camouflage uniform in a mask, holding an AK-47 appeared. Spencer irritably looked up at him and walked to the balcony, leaving Wesker to himself.

- I'm sorry, son, but I must leave you for a while. I'll send you Doctor Birkin to check on you and to finally let you go. - he chuckled deeply.

- Why strap me anyways? - asked Wesker. Spencer smirked.

- Son, it could be foolish of me to let the snake I gave birth to bite it's own father. Unfortunately, I don't have your powers so I had to inject you with a poison that wouldn't kill you, but make you weaker. Strapped just in case - who knows when the poison stops working?.. And I still want to live a little longer in this world.

With that, Wesker was left alone in the dark, lying on the table, thinking, white smoke curling in the air as he breathed through his nose. It was still cold here.

* * *


	3. Chapter I, Nameless

Name: Liberty of Death: Sons of Wesker

Genre: Action/Adventure

Plot: "Project Wesker" was a tremendous success in science, although nobody new but Umbrella. Ultimate speed, unimaginable strength, practically no emotions and fabulous battle skills - that's what Albert Wesker has, and much more talents that are still unknown. Umbrella, decides to clone him, against his will - and his three sons of Wesker are born. The company is in the hands of Spencer, and Spencer wants power, and he believs that this power can be delivered to him by the hands of Weskers children, but Wesker has other plans. He sends them away - leaving only one of them with himself. Years after, a first viral outbreak occurs in Russia in one of the secret Umbrella laboratories in Krasnoyarsk, long before the Raccoon City incident. And thats when it all goes horribly wrong...

Inspired by Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear Solid and Capcoms Resident Evil

Characters:

Albert Wesker  
Blake Wesker (OC)  
Carter Wesker (OC)  
David Wesker (OC)  
H.U.N.K.  
Frederic Downing  
Vincent Goldman  
Ricardo Irving  
Luis Sera  
Ozwell E. Spencer  
William Birkin

And many more...

* * *

Chapter I.

_Nameless._

_**The words that escape a friend's mouth are "I'll be there when you say you need me" but the words that are unheard from a true friend's heart are "I'll be there... whether you say you need me or not." (c)**_

[17:43 PM, Australian Umbrella facility, October 5, 1980]

Doctor William Birkin was a unique person. His appearance wasn't anything ordinary, if you studied him closely. First, he was quite a messy one for a scientist - his shirts always were wrinkled, his ties were all colors existent but black or grey - anything but normal, and he had a character, unusuall for a scientist - cheerful and funny. He looked somewhat like Wesker - blond hair, blue eyes - but they were exactly the opposite of each other.

Spencer was amazed how such different people could stick along so well. Wesker was always calm, cool, collected and emotionless - he was a perfect picture of a perfect man, as it seemed, his desk was kept always so tidy, clean, and didn' t leave much place for imagination, really.  
Some say that you can tell about a person by the state of his personal room/desk/apartment. But you couldn't tell anything about Wesker but that he worked for Umbrella, and only when you saw some documents on is desk - placed in perfect order. Birkin was totally the opposite. His desk was anything but tidy and organized - first, different sorts of documents were carelessly put together, and the scientist could search for one of it for hours, cursing and crawling under the table until Wesker didn't extract him by the collar of his lab coat and shove the needed document that was right before his eyes all along in his hands. Second - there were always papers with "what to do" list lying around and sometimes you could see something ridiculous written on them, like "buy new shoes + buy new toothbrush = buy new NaCl + Br buy aspirin", that just didn't make any sense. Then he had a big notebook, where he had all his superiors and colleagues drawn, especially Wesker. The number of Wesker doodles was the highest, and that only showed that Birkin looked up to his older friend and possibly adored him. Maybe he even thought of him like a brother he never had. Who knows.

Maybe it was that Birkin was two years younger than Wesker - he was still 18 when Wesker was 20, but Spencer doubted that he would change even when he becomes 40. He was always just like that - funny, nice, shy and all that that Wesker or probably anyone in Umbrella never was. Marcus sometimes questioned what Birkin was doing in a company like Umbrella anyways - they were like a pack of wolves here, held in Spencers iron grip. The funniest thing was that William didn't know it himself. When Wesker asked him this question once, annoyed that his friend wasn't working and instead was drawing small doodles on his superiors once again, the youngest Umbrella scientist shook his head and said:

- It all just happened. I don't know how actually. Maybe it was that I was the best in math, biology and chemistry while in school. Than I got noticed by Umbrella, when I graduated with the highest marks in my town at the year of 15, and who I was to pass on the opportunitu when they offered me job and a place at the biological Umbrella college?. And thats how I'm here. Pretty random, huh?

It was strange how Wesker and Birkin practically "joined at the hip" from the very day they met. Although back them Wesker was 18 and Birkin was only 16. The two youngest scientists in Umbrella. Marcus despised them, said they were just two foolish kids, wanting to play a big game. But Spencer encouraged the friendship that Birkin and Wesker shared.

He had that sixth sense - that something would happen, something that will bring Umbrella on the highest position in the world. And theese two would play not the last part in it.

Project "The Sons of Wesker" was a success. The woman who carried Weskers children - codename DANA - died after giving birth to the three kids. That was strange, but it turned out that Spencer planned it just like that - the less people knew about the project, the better. He did something to her, so there would be three embrions from the very start.

All three were boys - right according to Spencers plan. Wesker didn't feel all too fatherly for his children - he didn't feel fatherly at all, to be honest. He watched them, his expression cold and unemotional as ever, studied their every move as the kids were peacefully sleeping in the lab right on the floor on some kind of grey blankets - watched them only like a scientist. Birkin watched them too - he was another one to know about the project, as a friend of Wesker and a brilliant scientist as well. It was unnatural to say that Wesker had friends, but Birkin considered himself as a one, even if Wesker never aknowleged it himself.

Birkins reaction wasn't anything like Weskers. He studied kids through the glass, his expression mixed - on one hand he was a man, and he thought that men weren't the one to show their emotions... Weskers influence. But on the other hand... The kids were so cute, and William dreamed how he one day will have a family... A real family, not like Wesker - not clones... He would have a wife, a loving beaitiful woman that will make him dinner, kiss him a goodnight, sleep by his side... Williams dreams were somewhat of a naive boy, and when he once tried to tell them to Wesker... Tried to make him understand... His friend just laughed and said that he was a fool, a weak fool.

- Aren't they nice? - smiled Birkin widely, glancing at Wesker with his shiny crystal blue eyes, glistening with such emotions as kindness and tenderness to theese kids. Birkin indeed was a good person. Too good, and too random - for Wesker.

- I suppose so. - said Wesker in a plain voice. Birkin glanced at him with disbelief, withdrewing his hand from the glass that he was touching.

- Don't you feel anything?.. Anything at all? - asked the scientist, waving his hands. Wesker eyed him cooly, his eyes hidded behind his glasses, making him even more unreadable.

- What do you think I ought to feel? - said Wesker calmly. Birkin shrugged.

- I don't know... I mean, you're a father... I don't know what fathers normally feel but they have to feel something, right? I mean love, or somethig... - Birkin started rambling. Wesker shook his head.

- What exactly do you mean by telling me that I have to feel love? What in your interpretation love is, exactly?

Birkin silenced and looked at the sleeping kids for a minute. He looked thoughtful and somewhat serious, much more serious than he ever looked.

- I don't know. I think that fatherly love means affection towards it's child, care, want to protect your heir... Wesker cocked his eyebrow.

- No, I don't feel anything of what you mentioned. Maybe I feel a little anxious that when they grow up, they'll try to kill me or something.

- You're not being serious! - exclaimed Birkin, clearly shocked. Wesker smiled, although this smile, as Birkin thought, maybe never touched his cold eyes.

- I'm deadly serious. If they're gonna be raised in Umbrella's lab, they'll want to become like me, to become better like me. But - I don't want someone being a copy of myself. There has to be only one Wesker alive. - he said darkly. - They'll fight me, fight with each other, until the only one is left alive. That's how it will happen if they'll be raised by me, but guided from behind the scenes by Spencer. I know that's what he wants. He wants to make this... To make it like a little drama action. He always said that theatre was the world and people were the actors.

- Didn't Shakespeare say that.

- I didn't say Spencer made this phrase himself, he just likes to use it. He's a bastard, William, a calculating, cunning sick bastard. Don't you ever believe him. - this sudden outburst shocked Birkin. Was Wesker actually showing... That he was carrying about him?.. He never showed any affection towards him. They believed to be friends, but... Sometimes Birkin questioned it. Of course, Wesker was his friend, but what if Wesker himself didn't think of him as one?.. It possibly could be true, he never knew what was in this head of his. And never will know, unfortunately, or maybe fortunately.

- I... I don't believe him, really. I know he cares only about himself and...

- Good. Glad to hear you weren't fooled by him. - Wesker returned to watching the three kids, that were now stirring and waking up.

He already had a plan about what to do. He will send them to the different parts of the world - the two of them - to the government secret army. Without Spencer knowing, of course. They'll be trained like soldiers from the very beginning, and when they grow up, they would see which one of the Weskers is the most capable of becoming a God. One of the kids will stay with him though. He'll think of something to tell Spencer.

- Hey, what are you thinking? - Birkin waved his hand in front of his sunglasses. - You're zoning out!

- I have a plan. - said Wesker and opened his suitcase, taking out three little black boxes.

- What plan?.. Hey, where are you going?

Wesker didn't say a word and just entered the room where the three kids were sitting, still sleepy. They were only 2 years old - his own three little sons. But he still didn't feel anything. Nothing personal.

Although they were still too little, it was already obvious that their appearance would be exactly like Weskers. At least their features were alike his; only the color of their eyes were different and the hair color. Only one of them was brunette, the other two were blond, just like him.  
He quickly took out the first syringe and injected the first kid. The boy yelped and eyed him, offended. Wesker ignored him, taking out the second syringe and injecting the second child, and then took out the third one and injected the third one. All three of them woke up immediately, looking at him questionably.

- It's just something for the future. - said Wesker, packing the boxes inside the suitcase and leaving the room, kids eyes following him.

- What was it? - asked Birkin curiously. Wesker simply stated:

- The special nano technology microchip, the same one that Spencer injected me with when I was born. That way I can see where they are, and control their actions.

- Was that necessary? - asked Birkin, eyeing the three children that started to talk with each other, probably discussing what Wesker did to them.

- Absolutely. This is the only way I'll be able to control them.

- Have you told them that...

- No. I'm just a superior for them. The boss. They don't need to know. It is meaningless when they'll be taken away in two hours.

Birkin's eyes widened.

- What!? Where!? Why?

But Wesker ignored his question, staring at his own children. The glass was made that way that only he and Birkin could see them, but they couldn't see them.

The helicopter arrived soon.

- You're going to send them away from here? - asked Birkin, eyeing as a soldier in green camouflage took one of the kids. The child was silent in his arms, just eyeing the machine curiously. Then his gaze turned to Wesker. Did he sense that...? Wesker dismissed the thought. It was impossible - only in drama films such could exist.

- Yes. That is the only choice I have. Besides... It would be fun meeting them after all theese years and witnessing what they have become. The first one is going to London and would be raised there. The government would take good care of him.

- Does the government know that they are infected?

- No. They don't know a thing about this childs abilities. They just need kids... Orphan kids to create ultimate soldiers, the army that'll never disobey, the army that will be trained right from the childhood. And they also have secret business with Umbrella. That's how I can do this all with minimum noize.

- Oh... But they're not orphans, they're...

- They are orphans. The government is clueless about even my prescence in the world. I'm not mentioned in any documents. In fact... I was a project myself as well. And anyways, they're real names are only mentioned in rare Umbrella files. Now they're just nameless.

The second helicopter arrived after the first one departed. It had a red star carved on it's side, and that meant.

- Russian helicopters?..- exclaimed Birkin, clearly shocked.

- Exactly. The same programm here, an absolut army the russian government wants to create. Isn't it fabulous - the two of my sons shall be sent to different sides of the world?.. If the war strikes, it will be fun to watch them fight against each other... Brother against brother... Kain against Abel... The history adores running in circles. - Wesker's smile was ironic and somewhat anticipating. As the second kid was taken away, Wesker put a hand around his third son, watching the helicopter fly away.

- Where are they going, Wesker? - asked the kid. He was that brunette one. Wesker picked him especially so no one would figure out his real personality.

- Who they? - mused Wesker. Birkin looked at them, clearly not pleased with the way Wesker was acting with his own child, but didn't tell anything, just turned away.

- They... My brothers. - asked the child. Wesker turned him away from the horizon and took his hand, leading him inside the Umbrella facility.

- You never had brothers. They were just random kids, just like you. Bit I picked you, among them, you have the most potential... Do you want to become something more then everyone... Something powerful? - asked Wesker subtly.

A fire lit in kids eyes; a fire that made Birkin feel unknown bitterness. He knew that this kid has already lost for humanity, just by the look in his green orbs. And if he didn't, it was just yet. He was about to willingly sell his naive soul to the demon, to the demon that in truth was his father.

Birkin walked inside the facility alone, understanding the true self of his friend only now.

- But he is my friend... And I have to be there for him no matter what his character is. - said Birkin quitely. Little did he know what his allegiance to Wesker will cost him.

* * *


	4. Chapter II, Training

* * *

Name: Liberty of Death: Sons of Wesker

Genre: Action/Adventure

Plot: "Project Wesker" was a tremendous success in science, although nobody new but Umbrella. Ultimate speed, unimaginable strength, practically no emotions and fabulous battle skills - that's what Albert Wesker has, and much more talents that are still unknown. Umbrella, decides to clone him, against his will - and his three sons of Wesker are born. The company is in the hands of Spencer, and Spencer wants power, and he believs that this power can be delivered to him by the hands of Weskers children, but Wesker has other plans. He sends them away - leaving only one of them with himself. Years after, a first viral outbreak occurs in Russia in one of the secret Umbrella laboratories in Krasnoyarsk, long before the Raccoon City incident. And that's when it all goes horribly wrong...

Inspired by Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear Solid and Capcoms Resident Evil

Characters:

Albert Wesker Blake Wesker (OC)  
Carter Wesker (OC)  
David Wesker (OC)  
H.U.N.K.  
Frederic Downing  
Vincent Goldman  
Ricardo Irving  
Luis Sera  
Ozwell E. Spencer  
William Birkin

And many more...

* * *

Chapter II

_Training_

_**The term God is used to designate a Supreme Being;  
however, there are other definitions of God. For example: many religious and philosophic systems consider a God to be the creator of the universe. Some traditions hold that the creator of the universe is also the sustainer of the universe (as in theism); while others argue that their God is no longer involved in the world after creation (as in deism). The common definition of a God assumes omnipotence, omniscience and benevolence.  
-Anna Quindlen**_

[8:00 PM, Umbrellas African facility, December 15, 1985]

A 7 year-old brunette boy with dull green eyes and unreadable expression was standing in the middle of a cold sarf room, holding a combat knife in his small, but already experienced hands.  
He wasn't holding it like a defensive child, no - but more like a well-trained solider - the sharp part of a blade looking straight to meet the enemies attack.  
The boy's attire wasn't quite normal for an ordinary male child his years - he was dressed all in black, reminding of a little ninja, and on his head was present a black bandana, that covered his sweaty forehead. The boy was panting, but nevertheless stayed calm and collected. There was no place for panic in his movements.

- The basis of a good battle is a well-trained soldier with a healthy spirit. The spirit is all that matters, actually; weapons are, of course, needed, but they are not the main part.

The cold voice echoed in the empty room, but the owner of the voice seemed nowhere to be found. It was if like the man that it belonged to was invisible, but the boy was pretty much aware that the attack could follow at any minute and by talking the older man is just waiting when he loose his focus; he wasn't about to let that happen.

- There's no point in hiding if it's a fair battle. - said the boy, his eyes scanning the room intensely.

A deep throaty chuckle could be heard.

- Who said that the battle was fair?..

Suddenly a figure dropped to the floor and sprinted right to the boy. The child didn't seem to be amused or scared - he just jumped out of the way, trying to slash the figure with a knife where his ribs were supposed to be.

The figure was moving with unnatural speed - the boy knew that, and also he knew that there were no chances for him to win. But he wasn't about just to give up. Not so easily at least.

The figure stopped and stood up, fixing his sunglasses.

- It's not fair to move faster than any human, Wesker. - noted the boy.

Wesker smirked, and noted that the boy was starting to learn things - his ribs healed fast, but that didn't mean that there wasn't a little bloody long scratch two seconds ago. Somewhat, he was proud. It seemed he ran too close to the boy, because if he didn't, there would be no chance for the kid to hurt him. Partly, Wesker did that to test the child's concentration - and he was pleased, indeed.

- You have it in yourself as well, Blake. The virus is just not active yet.

The boy shrugged.

- Why then do I have to learn how to fight if soon I can be like you?.. - he said. Wesker rushed to him, and before the boy could move away, Wesker stroke a knife from his hands and threw the boy to the wall, the now useless weapon falling to the floor with a metal sound.

The child hit the wall and fell to the floor, coughing, blood seeping out from his nose. He lift his head and looked at Wesker with eyes, full of hatred - not that childish hatred of a kid that wasn't allowed to eat cookies before dinner, no. But real hatred, a hatred of a person that wants to kill. Wants revenge.

- Now you see why. - not asked, but stated Wesker.

- But that's not fair! You're bigger and much older than me! - said the boy, standing up. Wesler cocked his eyebrow.

- Fair?.. Blake, I advise you to forget this word. You know, your enemies won't always be your size and with equal powers. Fair fight is something that exists only when you fight with an equal, and that's very rare. Believe myself, I know. - grinned Wesker.

- When will I be able to have a real challenge?.. - asked the boy.

- My, my, aren't you a fast one?.. I think now you don't have any chances. Of course, close combat counters isn't the main part in the battle. Now we'll try shooting, because that is the only way you sometimes can defeat... Different sorts of enemies.

Wesker gave Blake a Blacktail, a simple gun that weighted not too much for the kid. Taking it, Blake casually clicked the safety off and automatically checked the whole weapon

- Target? - Blake glanced at Wesker, secretly hoping that the target was his superiors head.

Wesker pushed some button and a paper man with several red dots on his head, chest, legs and arms appeared.

- We did this before, remember. Also remember that these are the most painful parts in human body. Of course the shot in the head is lethal.

Blake nodded and aimed at the paper man.

The boys aim was good if not to say perfect. The recoil didn't bother him much - he got used to it - and he hit 17 of the 20 bullets in the red dot on the head. Then he suddenly sharply turned and fired the left three bullets in Wesker.  
His superior didn't seem even to pretend to be amused. In a blink of an eye he avoided all three bullets and with the last one he did something - took out his own combat knife that he rarely used, and made the bullet fly straight back to Blake.

The boy was too slow and the bullet hit him - fortunately not the head, only the shoulder. The boy yelped in surprise and fell to the floor, clutching his shoulder with his free hand.

- Why didn't you die? - he said through gritted teeth. Wesker chuckled and kneeled beside him, lifting the boys chin with his finger.

- A God can never die. - said Wesker, his sunglasses staring into the boys green eyes. Blake turned his head away; Wesker could almost feel these waves of hatred, that radiated from his son.

* * *

Later, when Birkin was treating the boys wound, Blake decided to ask the scientist a question.

- Doctor Birkin? - started Blake. The scientist smiled and looked at him kindly.

- Blake, William is just fine.

The boy shook his head stubbornly. He just couldn't understand it - he couldn't address people by their names. It was strange, but it was all Weskers influence, Birkin knew.

- Okay, what do you want to ask? - said Birkin calmly, taking the green herb and placing it onto his wound. The boy grimaced, but a cry of pain didn't ever leave his mouth.

Blake glanced at the door, then at Birkin once again. He wasn't sure that Wesker wasn't listening, but he was told that his superior went somewhere, and probably weren't even in the facility right now.

- Is Wesker really... A God?..

Birkin froze and looked in Blakes eyes; the kid was watching him, waiting for his answer. You could never guess, but Birkin was probably was the only one whom Blake really trusted, maybe because the scientist was the only one who treated him kindly, almost like a father. Maybe he even tried to be like a father for him, because William knew - Wesker will never show and have any affection towards his son.

- Did _he_ tell you that?..

The boy paused and then answered, casting his eyes down:

- Yes.

Birkin frowned. He didn't like the methods Wesker was raising his own son, not at all. Everytime he glanced at the kid, it pained him to do so: the boy looked beaten, his face was marred with scars already, his little hands were calloused and his eyes held nothing but hatred, his expression unemotional however. What the boy has become at such a young age?.. A little copy of Wesker, as Birkin saw it. And he wasn't all wrong.  
But how could he answer Blakes question? Maybe "no" was the right answer, but then, what was Wesker?.. He wasn't a human, at least not already a human, and Blake wasn't dumb and saw it. He couldn't say "yes", because it was just ridiculous, but then... The point was not who Wesker was. The point was who Blake thought Wesker was.

- A person is what he thinks he is. - said Blake suddenly. - But I don't really think that Wesker is God.

There. The question was answered by the boy himself. Birkin mentally exhaled in relief - but tensed once again when Blake asked:

- Doctor Birkin, what is the opposite of a God?..

Birkin took the bandage and wrapped it around Blakes shoulder carefully, not wanting to cause him more pain.

- A devil I suppose. - said Birkin cautiously. The boy nodded and tried to move his shoulder as Birkin finished patching him up. It still hurt, but not really. The real pain was when Birkin was extracting the bullet from his skin.

- Then Wesker is a devil.

Birkin couldn't say anything to that.  


* * *


	5. Chapter III, First Mission

* * *

Name: Liberty of Death: Sons of Wesker

Genre: Action/Adventure

Plot: "Project Wesker" was a tremendous success in science, although nobody new but Umbrella. Ultimate speed, unimaginable strength, practically no emotions and fabulous battle skills - that's what Albert Wesker has, and much more talents that are still unknown. Umbrella, decides to clone him, against his will - and his three sons of Wesker are born. The company is in the hands of Spencer, and Spencer wants power, and he believs that this power can be delivered to him by the hands of Weskers children, but Wesker has other plans. He sends them away - leaving only one of them with himself. Years after, a first viral outbreak occurs in Russia in one of the secret Umbrella laboratories in Krasnoyarsk, long before the Raccoon City incident. And that's when it all goes horribly wrong...

Inspired by Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear Solid and Capcoms Resident Evil

Characters:

Albert Wesker  
Blake Wesker (OC)  
Carter Wesker (OC)  
David Wesker (OC)  
H.U.N.K.  
Frederic Downing  
Vincent Goldman  
Ricardo Irving  
Luis Sera  
Ozwell E. Spencer  
William Birkin

And many more...

* * *

Chapter III

_First Mission_

_**"Weapons are an important factor in war, but not the decisive one; it is man and not materials that counts."  
- Mao Zedong**_

[5:00 AM, Russia, Saint-Petersburgh, the local FSB building, November 10, 1996]

- Is it dangerous?.. Yes. Yes he is. Are the hostages safe? Yes. We have. When do you... Okay. We'll do it as soon as possible.

An old man in a green beret put the phone down, annoyance clearly written on his face. He sat heavily in his armchair and closed his eyes for a second, and then opened them once again. He was tired, so tired, but he couldn't retire just because of that. He knew what was right and what was wrong, and retiring was wrong. Until he closes his eyes forever, he wont stop fighting for the peace his country truly deserved.

A young man with short blond hair and grey eyes glanced at him curiously, but said nothing. He was dressed in simple civil clothes, and looked nothing but ordinary, but if he was in such a place like here, you could say he wasn't just a random man in his twenties.

The old man sighted and took our a pack of Marlboro. Looking at it he sighted once again and put it back, cursing under his breath. He knew he couldn't smoke just yet. At least not right now.

- General?.. - a young man broke the uncomfortable silence. The older man looked at him but still said nothing.

- What happened? Why are you so upset? - the young man said quietly. - Is this... Is it because of the Winter Palace case?..

General suddenly stood up and banged his fists on the table, his expression turning into the furious one.

- Yes, damn it, and I'm so angry because I know I have no choice! - the old man panted, gritting his teeth. Then exhaustion remembered of itself once more and general sat once again, hiding his face into his large calloused hands, that were more used with writing different reports than carrying guns for already over 10 years.

- No choice but to do what? - the young man questioned calmly, running a hand through his hair.

- No choice but to fucking send you there! - general nearly yelled.

The younger man's eyes lit up but he tried to suppress his joyful emotions by casting his head down.

- For theese 18 years you were trained like an agent by the FSB, and I swear to God that you're the best of them all! - the old man was nearly shaking. - I wanted to keep you safe from the horrors of real battles, to let you live like a normal man... Like a normal man I never was.

The general's voice was nearly audible now, and the young man had to shift closer to hear him.

- You were trained to become the best of the best - CQC, hiding, spying, all kinds of battle techniques... Everything! Something I taught you by myself, something you were taught by the others. I was proud of you, you soon became like a son to me... I had no family myself nor did you. - the general whispered, trying to seem strong, but the man in front of him knew that inside he was breaking.

- But soon I understood that I wanted you not to become like me... I knew that you tried to follow my footsteps, to be better then me... But when I look myself in the mirror I see a disgusting old man that has no real purpose in life. I didn't want you to become like that.

- I wouldn't... - mumbled the younger man but general haven't heard him.

- I wanted you to be safe... Wanted you to drop military and settle down... But how could I tell you?.. Army was your home, and I knew it, I saw it... But I had to tell that to you. Days passed by, and I was slowly gaining courage to say that to you... But I was too afraid that you will reject me, will laugh at me, or worse - never talk to me again...

The young man listened silently to the older mans confession.

- I was almost ready to say that to you... To ask you to leave to keep yourself safe... But then the Winter Palace accident occurred. It ruined all my plans.

The younger man didn't look general in the eyes; it seemed he found something interesting on the table and was studying it intently. General clenched his fists.

- The terrorists or someone... They took all the hostages, locked them in a room and are threatening to kill every one of them. The most ridiculous thing is that we don't have any cassettes with their demands, no records with their wantings. The alpha team we sent there never came back. A highly professional spy didn't 'come back either. We lost contact with her two hours ago and that's the last record of communication we had with her.

The general seemed to calm down. He took the tape recorder from the drawer and pushed the "on" button.

At first only sounds of static could be heard but then the voice of the spy said clearly:

- HQ, respond, this is Mary. Found nothing suspicious yet. The hostages are in the wing B, 2 floor.

- This is HQ, good job. Find out what happened to alpha team and who are the terrorists. Take them out if it's possible.

- Roger that. Over and out.

The general pushed the "off" button and looked at the younger man that seemed to show no interest.

- That was the last transmission from her. We can't contact with her since than, it seems like her communicator is broken or something.

- Could it be possible she's with the terrorists? - asked the young man. The general shook his head.

- She was a trustworthy agent, Ivan, and the possibility of it is very low.

- But the possibility of it still exists.

The general paused.

- Yes. - he said finally. - I said it's very low, bit I didn't say it's impossible. But I doubt she betrayed us. I trained her personally. I know her inside and out.

Ivan "hmphed" sarcastically, but didn't say anything.

- We considered her status MIA. And now I have no choice but to send you there, as our best agent. You've passed VR training very good, no one was better then you. Your hiding skills are excellent. But, - generals expression became a pained one once again. - I don't want you to die like they all did. The problem is... I have no choice. It was an order from the president himself.

- You mean from Eltsin himself!?

- Exactly. He said that we'll be sending agents there until we won't be able to beat the terrorists and save all the hostages.

Ivan looked thoughtful.

- Why is he so determined to save all the hostages and to kill the terrorists?.. I mean he's our president, alright, but I have a feeling there's something else... Why didn't he order to send special forces group? I mean the massive assault recon or something like that? That could solve all the problems!

The general looked at him with a sad look in his eyes. He looked even older now, so broken, his skin wrinkled from age, his whole expression tired and pained. He needed rest he couldn't get.

- We can't risk the hostage's lifes. The president'll skin us alive if someone of them dies, and he made it pretty clear. So we're sending you... - the general swallowed. - It is a hard decision for me, but we don't have any other choice. Be careful there... Ivan. Don't get yourself killed. The whole country depends on you.

You could say that he wanted to say "son", but decided against it. He showed his emotions already, too many of them.

Ivan snickered.

- The whole country? That's just an ordinary terrorist action. We've already dealed with such accidents, remember?

- But you weren't involved.

- That doesn't matter! I'm a man, I'm a soldier! And if my orders are to disarm the terrorists and save all the hostages I'll do this! - the young man said, nearly shouting.

The general waved his hand.

- You're a hothead, and that'll be the death of you on this mission if you won't calm down. - the general sighted.

- Look who's talking. - mumbled Ivan. The general suddenly stood up and slapped him.

- Don't you dare talk to me like that, soldier! Your mission objective is to disarm the terrorists and save the hostages, all the hostages, I repeat! If one of them dies - end, mission failed! Is that clear, soldier!?

The generals expression changed - now it was stoned once again, his lips pursed, making a thin line, his eyes not showing any emotions, only sternliness.

Ivan touched his red cheek where a bruise was surely to appear later, and smiled.

- Why are you smiling at me like an idiot, soldier!? Your mission starts in half an hour, go prepare yourself! Stalina will help you with your gear, you'll receive your further instructions later! Now get out of my cabinet, I have nothing more to say to you! And remember to follow all fucking orders during the mission because they'll come straight from the president! Now get the fuck out! - the general returned to his paperwork, no more reminding of a man that cared about someone but his job.

"That's the general I respect"- Ivan wiped a smile from his features but mentally he was still grinning like an idiot.

- Yes sir! - he saluted his superior and walked out from the office. When the door behind him closed, the general recoiled in his chair, closing his eyes.

"You just fucking be careful there, Ivan. Don't get yourself fucking killed". - he thought, regretting that he allowed his soft side to show today.

* * *

Ivan walked to the girl that was sitting patiently on the chair near the cabinet, reading something. When Ivan approached her she put the book she was reading away. The cover read "Dostoyevski. "Idiot". "Is this some sort of a symbol, a metaphora that I'll have to associate with myself?"- thought Ivan philosophically.

- You're Stalina, right? - he asked the girl. She nodded, blinking.

- Yes, I am Stalina Sokolova. And you must be Ivan? Follow me.

The girl stood up and walked to the elevator, leaving a book on the chair.

Ivan picked it up and handed it to her when they stepped into the elevator.

- You forgot it. - he said plainly. The girl eyed him with an unreadable expression, taking the book although and pushing the button "down".

- I didn't forget it, I left it there so when I come back I will continue reading it.

- What if somebody'll steal it? - Stalina shook her head, running a hand through her short brunette hair. - Nobody needs it, for everyone else it is just a book. Only for me it is _the_ book. - she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"A typical nerd girl" - thought Ivan, somewhat irritated.

The girl glanced at him and then slapped him on the cheek, the other one, that still wasn't injured.

Ivan raised his arm to rub at the sore spot.

- Ow, what the hell, why'd you do that!?

The girl smiled thinly.

- I just thought that it wasn't pretty - when your right cheek was red and left was still white. I decided to change this disbalance.

The elevator made a high sound and the doors opened. Stalina walked out from the elevator and headed to a grey ordinary door, that was just ahead of them.

- Come on, what are you waiting for!? Let's go prepare you for the mission! - she opened the door waving to Ivan who still was standing in the elevator.

- Why do I have this feeling that she knew what I thought of her?.. - mumbled Ivan and followed Stalina into the grey door.

He put his hand from his cheek and briefly touched the place on his neck, covered by hair. Nobody knew besides him that there was a small tattoo there. He had this habit of touching this place where it was since he first discovered it was there - when he was seven. He knew that tattoo was with him from the very moment of his birth. He didn't have any family, he was raised by the russian army, and there was his home, his heart and his life. But this tattoo... Was a proof that he had another life he didn't remember. Sometimes he had strange dreams of a man in black, wearing sunglasses, just staring at him, saying nothing. The man looked just like him, only older. But such dreams visited him only once or twice - and he wasn't sure they weren't just meaningless crap dreams people usually have.

He wasn't aware what was carved into the back of his neck. Asking someone to look for him meant that someone'll know his secret and he didn't want it. He couldn't read the text (he was pretty sure there was text there) carved on his skin, no matter how much he tried. It annoyed him, but he decided not to ask for help.

He had a feeling that it would be better if the others, and most importantly, himself wold never know.  


* * *


	6. Chapter IV, Umbrella

* * *

Name: Liberty of Death: Sons of Wesker

Genre: Action/Adventure

Plot: "Project Wesker" was a tremendous success in science, although nobody new but Umbrella. Ultimate speed, unimaginable strength, practically no emotions and fabulous battle skills - that's what Albert Wesker has, and much more talents that are still unknown. Umbrella, decides to clone him, against his will - and his three sons of Wesker are born. The company is in the hands of Spencer, and Spencer wants power, and he believs that this power can be delivered to him by the hands of Weskers children, but Wesker has other plans. He sends them away - leaving only one of them with himself. Years after, a first viral outbreak occurs in Russia in one of the secret Umbrella laboratories in Krasnoyarsk, long before the Raccoon City incident. And thats when it all goes horribly wrong...

Inspired by Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear Solid and Capcoms Resident Evil

Characters:

Albert Wesker  
Blake Wesker (OC)  
Carter Wesker (OC)  
David Wesker (OC)  
H.U.N.K.  
Frederic Downing  
Vincent Goldman  
Ricardo Irving  
Luis Sera  
Ozwell E. Spencer  
William Birkin

And many more...

* * *

Chapter IV

_Umbrella_

**_Computers are like Old Testament gods; lots of rules and no mercy.  
-Joseph Campbell_**

[2:00 PM, November 8, 1996, somewhere in Spain]

There wasn't anything unusual about a simple little quiet house in Valdemoro - one of the nearby towns two hours from Madrid. The house was totally random, grey outside and inside, and it didn't bring attention to itself by no means. Nothing was special about the insides of the house as well - the liing room contained a wooden table, a sofa, and a Samsung television, the white remote control from it lying near on the shelf where the TV itself stood; the bedroom had an ordinary bed and a nightstand near it with a lamp present on it. A wardrobe could be seen in the corner of the room, containing nothing but a couple of grey and black men t-shirts and sweaters, along with two pairs of Levis jeans and Reebok white sneakers, nothing more. The kitchen was even more boring, the fridge buzzing peacefully in the corner, containing only a bottle of milk and two packs of butter.

The inhabitant of the house seemed to be nothing but ordinary as well. But it only seemed though.

The man - or, should I say - the boy, that lived in the house - never really went out that much. Not because he didn't want to - just because he couldn't.

Actually, there was only one reason for it. He was afraid of people.

The 18 year old boy never really thought that he must interact with them - he despised the crowd with all his heart, but deep down inside, he just knew - he was afraid. He could get lost and stubbornly seek for the path home himself than ask someone for help. He told himself that he couldn't damage his pride, but the true reason was that the boy was too chicken to approach someone. He didn't think that it was unlikely that he'd see this person ever again, or that his face would be remembered anyways. There wasn't anything special about him - short black hair, blue eyes, skinny and you could say bony - just an ordinary boy. Not that he wanted to be someone else.

He was perfectly happy the way he was. He couldn't fire a gun nor he had superhuman powers like in Hollywood films, but it didn't bother him, really. Instead, he could hack into every computer system in the world,  
and make hell break loose for anyone who had a personal computer. Not that he did that - at least not for free. Sometimes, when he was bored, he hacked into the several systems of big companied like Microsoft or something like that - for nothing in particular, just for pure fun. They never caught him - he was truly a professional, though self-taught. Truly a genius when it came to computers.

Not that he wanted to be or something, it just happened so. He didn't complain - everything was perfectly fine with him.

The boy was now sitting in his room on the bed, staring at his big computer - it was the model he modificated himself, the most powerful computer in the world for the exact moment. If Bill Gates knew about the existence of such machine in 1996, he would pay thousands and millions just to get it.

Not that the boy was willing to sell it.

The computer was his best friend, was his everything, in fact - he earned himself money that way, hacking into different sites. He got money for that from people, and sometimes he lazily mused - how willingly people could give him one hundred bucks so they just could make others uncomfortable. These people weren't even thinking that they did something utterly bad by just wanting to do something naugty - they wanted, they did it, with his help of course. He himself ddn't think he was doing something bad, actually - he was doing it to earn himself money so he could at least by himself some food, clothes and other stuff to update his personal computer.

Knocking could suddenly be heard on the door of his house. The boy didn't even flinch to get up or look at the direction of the sound - he was to lazy to do so.

- Open up! - someone yelled angrily in Spanish. - Open the damn door!

The boy frowned in disgust. Again. Those people. What did they want from him this time? A hack into the site of a candy shop?..

He stood up slowly and walked to the door, opening in cautiously. The man that stood behind the door wasn't quite patient - he nearly rushed into the house, placing himself on the sofa. As did so, he yelped and jumped up immediately.

- Joder!.. - he sweared in Spanish, trying to look at his backside. - Who the hell leaves half-full teacups on the sofa!?

The exclamation was rhetorical and didn't need to be answered. The boy closed the door silently and looked at the man, his expression quite plain. He shrugged as he took a tea-cup from the sofa and threw it into the sink, not even bothering to wash it. The man watched him with a look of disbelief - he heard that this boy was a genius, but seeing his old jeans, wrinkled tee-shirt and slight stubble, and now his attitude, he questioned his uniqueness.

Silence hang in the air as the man studied the boy suspiciously.

- I believe you are Iason, right?.. - the man decided to start the conversation, seeing that the boy didn't give a damn about doing so.

- Thats what people call me. - the 18 year old replied, leaning on the wall, crossing hands on his chest and studying the man. It was hard to say what he was thinking because his expression was a stoned one, as his whole appearance. The man shifted uncomfortably in his place, glancing anxiously at the boy. It was obvious that he was nervous. But of what?..

- My name is Daniel Sera. - the older man licked his lips, running his hand through his grey hair. He looked like he was in his fifties or something - maybe older, it was hard to tell. In warm climate, people sometimes look better then they ought to be.

- This name doesn't tell me anything. - said Iason sharply. Daniel glanced at him, anger clearly present on his face, wrinkled only a little because of his age, but then he decided that it was no serious matter to be angry about.

- I heard that you were a genius from my old friend... - started the man, but Iason shook his head.

- Cut the crap, straight to business.

The man was boiling deep inside, but he knew he couldn't say anything. Not just yet at least. But he couldn't not respect Iasons position - strictly business, as fast as possible, money first, chairs later.

- Okay. - the man sighted, clearly nervous. - I... Wanted you to hack the system of Umbrella.

The boy raised his brow.

- You mean the system of a highly respectable corporation throughout the whole world, the biggest distributor of pharmacy products into more than thousand countries and the corporation that gives people jobs?.. - Iason looked thoughful for a moment. - Piece of cake!..

The older man smiled knowingly.

- Believe me, boy, this corporation isn't as innocent as it seemes... It has... It has quite questionable dealings, and it's history isn't that naive as everybody thinks... - the boy shrugged.

- I'm not interested, so just give me the money and I'll do what you ask.

The man winced.

- As you wish, Iason. - he took out his wallet and carelessly gave him two thousand dollars.

Iason took only two hundred of the green friends and wanted to give the rest back, but Daniel shook his head.

- It's not just for the hack. It is also... - He sighted. - We need you to upload the virus into their system.

- I can do that from my computer... - started the boy.

- No. - the man said sharply. - You can't without uploading the virus into the system of your own machine. You see... - he paused. - Our local computer specialist died two days ago. He was going to do it himself - I mean to upload the virus and all - but unfortunately he passed away. All that he managed to do was make that virus - a special virus - developed specifically for Umbrellas systems.

Daniel extracted the disk from the pocket of his brown trousers and handled it to Iason. The boy merely looked at the disk, taking it and putting the virus on the table, positioning himself beside his computer.

- You know that I can't handle guns, I don't happen to know any combat techniques or anything. - simply stated the boy, turning his computer on. The screen lighted, showing the picture of a dragon holding a computer mouse in his mouth. "Welcome back, Iason!"- the red letters appeared, jumping and greeting the young programmist.

- We can't afford ourselves to hire a special operations group. Too risky, and we don't want anybody to know about us. Not just yet at least.

The boy shrugged, tapping several keys on his computer. He wasn't the nosy type of a guy, so he didn't ask anything about this strange conspiracy.

- So you want me to break into their system by my computer, and when I do that, you want me to upload the virus, right?..

Daniel nodded.

- Absolutely. But the thing is... I mean why do you have to hack their systems first: you need to extract a code from the depths of the system, so then you could upload the virus. It works only this way, our computer specialist told us. This code will be written inside their system then, and it'll weaken it, so the virus will be easy to upload and it surely will work.

- Okay, I get it. - Iason opened some program and started rapidly typing something, not even looking at the keyboard.

Suddenly the display turned red and a little girl appeared on the display, wearing a simple white dress with ribbons. Her face was expressionless as she just stood there, on the other side of the monitor and stared right at Iason.

- Well hello there, an unknown hacker. - the girl said in a mocking voice. Iason frowned. This was something he truly didn't expect.

- I take it you are surprised to see me, right? - the girl grinned, sitting on a little chair that suddenly appeared behind her. - You are really a smart one, if you could make it this far. That's why I decided to talk to yourself personally. You know, you really should be proud you met me.

Iason mumbled something incoherent, pushing several buttons on the keyboard, but to no avail.

It seemed that the girl was aware of everything that he was doing.

- It won't help, dear anonymous hacker. I'm a permanent program that is written inside all Umbrellas terminal. Don't you think that it would be so easy to break the whole system!? That is Umbrella we're talking about here. A powerful company throughout the whole wide world. And don't you think that we could be such a company if everybody could just hack our data? - the girl tsked and drank a little tea from a cup that appeared in her hands seconds ago.

- Now that wasn't exactly what I expected, but oh well, I think it's not that complicated. - shrugged Iason. - I'm just curious who she is. I believe that if I got a chance to see her, my success was pretty far. Maybe she is... - mumbled the boy quietly to himself, but didn't finish his sentence, deciding to leave his thoughts unsaid.

- You were fast, really fast, and I have to say that I have nothing to do but respect you. But may myself not be unknown for so long - it's impolite, really. My name is the Red Queen.

- The Red Queen!? - Iason stared at the girl, cocking his eyebrow. - Great, now I have to deal with the program that has it's own mind. My day is getting better and better.

But by the look on Iason's features Daniel figured that the boy was interested. He never got a real challenge.

Iason quickly stood up and opened a little box that stood right under his table, extracting a blue colored disk and putting it inside the CD-DVD drier.

- I think she can read all my doings, but she can't locate from where the attack is coming from. - mumbled Iason proudly. - It means she even can't send a virus into my system, because my computer is totally locked from her view. She just guesses everything. Smart girl. - he grinned, watching blue letters running on the display as the disk started working.

- I can see your every move. - the girl stated simply, proving that Iason was indeed right after all. - It's only a matter of time to hack in your system.

But Iason knew that the Red Queen was blustering. He also knew that she tried to send him every existent virus, but couldn't. Iason clearly saw that it pissed the computer lady.

The Red Queen frowned, but tried to seem carefree and as if nothing was wrong.

- You are strong, the anonymous hacker. But don't think it'll be so easy. - the girl warned.

- I won't. - smirked Iason. - Besides, it would be too boring.

Daniel was sitting quietly on the sofa, watching the display with a distant look on his face. He was totally forgotten. Iason found himself an equal, though quite a robotic equal.

The girl nodded, looking somewhere in the emptiness behind her.

- It's not very polite to attack a lady. - she said anxiously. - I think I have something in store for you, my dear anonymous hacker.

Suddenly the letters in his display turned red and the screen started blinking. Iason quickly extracted the CD from the driver and put a black disk he was holding foreseeingly inside. The screed stopped blinking, and the Red Queens expression turned sad.

- Oh, that was my surprise for you. You didn't like it?.. - she said, lifting her eyebrows.

- Believe me, I did. - said Iason, although he knew she couldn't hear him. The girl looked thoughtful.

- Really, you're truly a strong one. Lots of people tried to hack Umbrellas systems, government included. But they failed miserably. - the girl giggled. - I mean even the government failed. But you're not working with them, right?.. - the screen started blinking once again,  
but this time Iason only tapped several keys lazily and it stopped.

- You can't turn me off, by the way. - the girl stated. - Maybe you want to know whats my job and why do I irritate you so much?..

- Oh, you don't irritate me, fair lady. Actually, I find you quite enjoyable. - said Iason, grinning.

- My job is to protect Umbrella by all means. And I do my job well, if you must know.

- Yes, until I came, you indeed were. - Iason said mockingly, and then thoughtfully typed something. Then he put the two disks inside his two drivers and pushed an enter button.

The screen went all red and the girl dissapeared. Then black stripes started running on the display, and a scream erupted from somewhere in the depths of the computer system.

- You'll pay for this! - screamed the girl from somewhere. The screen blinked rapidly. - You'll highly pay for this!

Then the voice vanished as well. A large Umbrella logo blinked in the screen, triangles forming the traditional mark of the company.

- Welcome to the Umbrella corporation. - a robotic female voice said. Iason smirked.

- So much for the Red Queen. - the boy said mockingly.

Two white boxes appeared on the display, one for a login and another one for a password.

- Piece of cake. - mumbled Iason and opened some program. After two minutes passed the screen blinked, the Umbrella logo disappearing and appearing once again.

- Access granted. - the robotic voice stated. Numerous letters appeared on the screen, different files in which Iason couldn't understand a thing.

Daniel stood up and walked the the computer, scanning the display for something. Than he pointed at some file that was without any title.

- I need this. Can you print it for me?

Iason shook his head.

- The filed on this page are unprintable. However, I can do something... - he took a disk from somewhere, probably blank, and inserted it in one of the drivers, extracting one of the previous disks there. He typed several keys and the screen suddenly turned off.

- What!? Why... - said Daniel in shock, but Iason only waved his head.

- Nothing serious, the information is written on the disk. - Iason extracted the CD-ROM out of the driver and handed it to Daniel. - I think my job here is done.

- But why the computer screen turned off? - said Daniel questionably, hiding the disk. Iason shrugged.

- It wrote the information in two seconds, and the computer turned off because in the process they could spot my location. I'm sure when the Red Queen recovers, she'll set the system in "Alert" mode. I sort of knocked her out for a while. - he said sheepishly.

Daniel patted his back friendly.

- Thank you, Iason. At first I really doubted your abilities, but now I see... You're a professional. But you've done only the first part of the job.

Iason stood up, stretching his muscles.

- Okay, what should I do next?.. - Iason said, yawning. Daniel tilted his head.

- I need you to go into one of Umbrellas labs and upload a virus into their system. The code is already there, I mean it's already in the system.

- I know that. - Iason said impatiently.

- You need to go to the Saint Petersburgh, where one of their main terminal systems is. Actually I have information that it is somewhere in the Winter Palace. We beliveve there's a large underground laboratory there.

Iason looked at him plainly.

- I'll need help, you know. My stealth skills are minimal, and I don't have any intentions of carrying a gun. - he said cooly. Daniel shrugged.

- Not a problem, really. My grandson will assist you. He can carry a gun, and he will protect you from any danger that might be awaiting for you there. You'll go as tourists, and there you'll act according to the plan.

- The plan?

- Yes, the plan. I'll be contacting you both by codec. - he gave Iason a simple black little codec that the boy immediately hid in the right pocket.

- When do I go? - said Iason, packing several disks in a capacious bag.

- In two hours. Here's the ticket. - Iason hid it as well. - Luis will meet you already at the airport in Petersburgh. Oh, and Iason?

- Yeah? - replied the boy, holding two same disks in his hands and thinking which of them to take. It seemed he couldn't remember what was on the disks, really.

- Don't get yourself killed. You're our only hope. - Daniel replied. - I'm counting on you.

- You'll have to double my payment. - smirked the boy, looking at the older man. Daniel returned his smirk.

- Would you take by gold?

The boy's grin widened.

- Absolutely.  


* * *

_A/N: Guessed who Iason and Ivan really are?.. I hope my story is interesting so far. **Big Boss**, **Prisonerkcs2-303**, thank you for your reviews. You make me belive that I interested someone with my story here =) I really hope you'll enjoy my story so far._ If there are some time paradoxes in my story or something like that, you tell me, okay? =) _Because I'm not very good at math, counting and everything that is connected with mumbers Oo :)_


	7. Chapter V, The fall of the ALPHA

Name: Liberty of Death: Sons of Wesker

Genre: Action/Adventure

Plot: "Project Wesker" was a tremenduous success in science, although nobody new but Umbrella. Ultimate speed, unimaginable strength, practically no emotions and fabulous battle skills - that's what Albert Wesker has, and much more talents that are still unknown. Umbrella, decides to clone him, against his will - and his three sons of Wesker are born. The company is in the hands of Spencer, and Spencer wants power, and he believs that this power can be delivered to him by the hands of Weskers children, but Wesker has other plans. He sends them away - leaving only one of them with himself. Years after, a first viral outbreak occurs in Russia in one of the secret Umbrella laboratories in Krasnoyarsk, long before the Raccoon City incident. And thats when it all goes horribly wrong...

Inspired by Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear Solid and Capcoms Resident Evil

Characters:

Albert Wesker Blake Wesker (OC)  
Carter Wesker (OC)  
David Wesker (OC)  
H.U.N.K.  
Frederic Downing Vincent Goldman Ricardo Irving Luis Sera Ozwell E. Spencer William Birkin

And many more...

* * *

Chapter V

The fall of the Alpha

_Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over... Death is not anything... death is not... It's the absence of presence, nothing more... the endless time of never coming back... a gap you can't see, and when the wind blows through it, it makes not sound._  
**- Tom Stoppard**

[10:14 PM, Saint Petersburgh, somewhere inside Winter Palace. November 9, 1996]

- Alpha Team, come in! Is everything okay?..

- All clear. No sign of the terrorists... Yet. We're continuing our investigation.

- Hurry up and save the hostages. Over and out.

Sergei put the codec away, turning to one of the Alphas.

- Kartashov, we've been here for already two hours and stil there's no sigh of the hostages or terrorists. Why? We've searched the whole palace, and I swear to God...

- Shut the fuck up. - advised Kartashov coldly. - You're not helping the situation just moping around. - the man gripped his AK tighter, pursing his lips. Deep sown he knew that Sergei was right - they've investigated the whole palace, but found no one, not a single soul. It was strange, really. Kartashov expected to see bloody corpses of unlucky tourists lying around or terrorists walking here and there with their weapons ready,  
but the place was... Empty. It seemed as though no one was in here besides them, and it scared him in a way.

Kartashov was an experience soldier. He was a professional - he didn't like his job thinking that it wasn't really perspective, but did it good, better then anyone in his team. And that's why everyone respected him - even the hot-headed rebellious Sergei.

Suddenly on of the Alphas yelled, narrowing his eyes, looking in the darkness that lay ahead of them:

- I think I saw someone move!

Kartashov lazily looked at his comrade and turned his flashlight at the direction the soldier was pointing. There was totally nothing - empty, as usual.

- Don't be so paranoic, Svetlin. There's nothing there, I assure you.

Svetlin nervously bit his lip.

- But I swear I saw...

- Who cares!? - said Kartashov harshly. - Everybody knows you're a scaredy cat.

Several chuckles could be heard among the Alphas as Svetlin blushed, his cheeks glowing crimson red. In the light of the flashlights attached to their AK's he looked somewhat cute and funny.

- No I am not! - suddenly said Svetlin loudly and gripped his AK tightly. - I... I will prove it to you!

And before Kartashov opened his mouth to say something, Svetlin dissapeared into the darkness, leaving his comrades behind.

Kartashov furiously swayed his flashlight, trying to locate the rebellious soldier, but there were no sighns of his presence. It was even more strange because there were no doors ahead as they discovered in the shaking light of their flashlights.

- Svetlin! - yelled Kartashov in the darkness. - You come back immediately! What the fuck do you think you're doing!? Svetlin!

But there were no answer. One of the smart soldiers tried to contact him by codec, but the other line stayed silent.

- Svetlin!? Svetlin, over!

But the line was dead.

- Where the fuck is he?.. If he went to take a leak I'm gonna bust his balls! - mumbled Kartashov angirly.

- Captain, I think that something happened to him. - said one of the soldiers gingerly. The others agreed with silent murmurs.

- Don't be silly, Belinski! I assure you he's alright, just fucking around playing a hero. - said Kartashov despisedly.

- But captain, his codec!..

- Maybe this moron had done somehing to it. Knowing him... He was only a rookie, after all. - said Kartashov cooly. It seemed that the disappearance of one of his comrades didn't bother him even one bit.

Everybody seemed displeased of Kartashov's actions, but nobody said a word. Kartashov decided to take a few steps further when his heavy standard military boots hit something. Something soft and big...

In the light of his flashlight he recognized a familiar, pale face. Svetlin... He was dead. Kartashov cast his eyes down and backed off slightly.

- Holy motherfucking shit! - he breathed out, his face turning into the grimace of disgust. He surely was a trained soldier, and had seen different people die different deaths, sometimes horrific and violent, but this...

It seemed that Svetlins heart was just ripped from his chest. He didn't know what could've done it - who or what. His heart lay on the floor, still beating, as it seemed to Kartashov. Blood was splattered everywhere, and the Alpha team captain could see ribs poking out from the ripped wound of his now dead comrade. Lungs and bowels could be seen as well - Kartashov turned away, swallowing heard to suppress the spasms of his throat.

- What the...

Kartashov's eyes widened. His whole team dissapeared. He hiccuped, amused, but them his flashlight cast a little down, and what he saw made him even more pale.

Belinski was lying several metres from him, his neck violently broken, his mouth ajar. Sergei was leaning on the wall, his head bowed, his throat ripped. Menshikov was sitting near Sergei, his eyes wide open in horror, his arms and legs broken - he seemed to dye of a pain shock. Others were lying in similar poses and with familiar lethal wounds.

Kartashov quickly took his codec, wanting to contact with HQ but then he felt as if somebody's hand was put right through himself, right through his whole body, ripping his organs from their places. The Alpha team captain breathed for the last time and fell on his knees, his AK hitting the floor with a "clink" sound.

- Why do I always have to do the dirty work for myself? - mused a cold unemotional voice. The figure in the darkness looked thoughtfully at the dead Russian soldiers and then slowly walked to Svetlin, lifting the sleeve of his shirt. A small needle prick was present on his hand closer to the beginning of a wrist. The figure smirked.

- Another Umbrella pet. It's already getting boring. - the figure said, it's voice sarcastic. It stood up, loosing any interest in Svetlin's corpse and a cold chuckle could be heard in the darkness of the room.

- Fools. - the voice of a stranger echoed in the room, and in a blink of an eye the room was empty. The only evidence of what happened here two minutes ago were lifeless corpses of Russian soldiers on the floor and crimson blood on the walls.

* * *


End file.
